


Denial

by LivingSilver



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dark Loki (Marvel), Denial of Feelings, F/M, No Spoilers, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Smut, love triangle kind of?, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-07 00:06:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12829050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivingSilver/pseuds/LivingSilver
Summary: When you leave, you don't look back. Loki tries not to be bothered by it.





	1. Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I'm not going to do a series.
> 
> Also me: Writes a series.
> 
> Just to clarify, this is not related to Sleep and Silvertongues, but the concept for Thor and Loki being at the Avengers tower post Ragnorak is still the same. Also this is basically trash, I just wanted an excuse to write some dark!Loki and I'm also thirsty for Thor so *shrugs*. It took me an embarrassing amount of time to write this and it's not even finished.

You awake to sunlight streaming in through the gap in the curtains; slashing a golden ray across Loki's toned back where he lays beside you, slumbering peacefully sprawled out on his stomach, face turned away with his raven hair fanned out across the pillow. Weeks of lingering glances and a growing affiliation with each other had finally resulted in _this_. And _this_ was the result of accidentally dropping the term "low key" in his presence, which led to a late-night session in Midgardian slang--accompanied by drinks of course.

 There's a pleasant ache between your thighs from last night's activities with the trickster god and you sigh softly before casting one last cautionary glance and rolling onto your side towards the edge of the bed. You're getting ready to swing your feet off the bed, when a powerful arm snakes around your waist.

  _Shit_. You hadn't even heard him turn over. And it's not like last night was a mistake, but you're not really a morning after person and neither of you had stopped to define the events of last night, but you were tired, the bed soft, the sheets silken, and here you are.

 Loki pulls you back firmly against his chest, nose trailing along the curve of your neck.

 "And just where do you think you're going?" He rasps low against your ear; voice still heavy with sleep.

 "Nowhere, apparently," You reply dryly.

 "Damn right," He grumbles into the crook of your jaw, pressing a kiss there and another one below it until he's left a trail of feverish kisses along the entire column of your throat, enjoying the way you arch against him.

 Loki's length presses hard against your ass and your center throbs. Elegant fingers pluck at your nipples and strum across the curve of your breasts before slipping gingerly between your slick folds, breath catching in his throat.

 Two fingers stroke your inner walls experimentally, gauging the damage from last night. He's rewarded with a whimper caught halfway between pain and pleasure.

 "Lovely." He murmurs, continuing to gently stroke until he begins to feel the sore muscles relax. Withdrawing his fingers, he moves over you, arms braced against the mattress he hovers above you, dark hair falling in his face.

 Loki covers your mouth with his own, tongue flicking lightly over your upper lip, you open for him. You kiss slowly as you snake a hand between your bodies, savoring the groan he releases into your mouth when your hand finds his aching cock.

 Your lips separate as you position him at your entrance. Loki presses in slowly, studying your reaction with interest--the sharp intake of breath, the way you bite your lower lip while he stretches the already sore muscles. The sensation of pain glimmers faintly beneath the pleasure and you moan when he fills your entirely.

 Loki fluidly pins your wrists above your head in one hand, and begins to move in long, easy thrusts. It isn't long before you hook a leg around his slender hips, drawing him deeper and embracing the dull ache of sensations clouding together. His pace quickens slightly, but it still possesses an unhurried leisure. Every drag of his cock within you has small obscene noises passing your lips; wrists straining against his grasp as your back arches. Your core begins to tighten around him and Loki releases the grip on your wrists only so his fingers can skim over your clit. Your surroundings fade away as your release washes over your in waves; Loki fucking you through it until you tremble and he finds his release with a final roll of his hips, coming with a sound caught somewhere between a groan and a sigh.

 With a reluctant breath, he rolls off of you and you lay together for a few minutes while coming down from the high. Your fingers trail the lines of his torso unable to help yourself as you gaze up at him from where your head rests on his shoulder, admiring how unguarded he seems, like a cat basking in a sunny window sill.

 "I should be going, " You murmur instead of asking for a next time which burns unspoken at the back of your throat, lips brushing a parting kiss against his jawline.

 “Ahh yes, I seem to remember interrupting your escape,” Loki teases mildly. Sentiment hisses through him unwelcome and unwanted at the slight tug of disappointment he feels at your early departure.

 When you leave, you don't look back. Loki tries not to be bothered by it.

 The next few days find your body warming at the memory of his touch; your thoughts lingering more and more on Loki until you find you’re constantly chasing thoughts of him away. You frown, reminding yourself it was just a casual fuck between…friends? Acquaintances? You struggle to define the relationship. Regardless, it merely the result of a mutual physical attraction. Still, your thoughts flit across the history of your interactions. The unreadable glimmer of his blue green eyes when he looks at you. And the mornings you have coffee together; Loki always experimenting with his, yet to find the perfect combination of cream and sugar. Flashing back to that night, how he seemed so intrigued, laughing unaffectedly at how Midgardian language has evolved. Remembering how strange it was to see him smile, teeth gleaming white, instead of his usual smirk, or the half-upturned curve of his lips that he sometimes graces Thor with.  And how everyone else looks at him with condescending disdain, as if they're clean. You're not clean, and neither is Loki. But if he can find redemption, then maybe there’s hope for you too.

The realization dawns on you frightening and unwelcome in a sobering rush of apprehension. Your internal monologue reprimands you for being such an idiot. The God of Mischief. Of Lies. This just won’t do. The trace of his touch lingers beneath your skin. You resolve to erase it. To undo, to unfall.


	2. A God for a God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is supposed to be post Ragnorak, but Thor has long hair because I say so.

You conveniently “happen” to cross paths with Thor the next day in a training room, persuading him to show you some Asgardian fighting styles. Its low, but you reason it’s going to take a god to get over a god.

 "It would be my pleasure! But of course only if you show me how to receive the e-mails? The electronic letters? The Strange fellow mentioned something about a computer?" Strands of blonde fall into his beautifully puzzled face.

 You agree, laughing good naturedly at his confusion.

 And that's how you end up in front of his door with a laptop stolen from Tony's inventory meant for new hires later that evening after your sparring session, which had established a healthy amount of tension.

 "Come in, come in!"  He welcomes you in with one of those signature Thor smiles. The God of Thunder is surprisingly disarming in black sweats and a grey tank top that stretches tight across his chest. Blonde hair falling onto his beautifully tanned shoulders.

 You sit on the couch with the laptop on the coffee table, giving him an overview of its basic functions. Your arm keeps brushing his impossibly well-muscled one as you keep leaning over to show him how to use it. Thor catches on quickly humming and nodding his understanding. You set up the e-mail, briefly explaining the concept of the internet and wifi.

 "And that's it?" Thor asks skeptically when you finish.

 "Well those are the basics, for now at least.” You clarify.

 "Thank you. You've been most helpful."

 "Anytime." 

 And you're going to get up to leave, but you're not, instead you linger on the couch a moment too long. Enough time for you both to become aware of how close you are, Thor’s gaze falling to your mouth, and yours falling to his. Thor’s lips brush your own, an unspoken question to which you respond, pressing back your consent. Then Thor's large hand is closing around your wrist pulling you onto his lap. Your hands tangle in his hair briefly before sliding down his neck and exploring the expanse of his shoulders, the muscles firm beneath your touch and heat flushes through your as your fingers trace the definition of his biceps.

 Thor kisses you slow and unhurried, tongue swiping almost politely along your bottom lip. The kiss deepens, and you melt against his considerable form. He pulls away only to place a kiss along your jawline before moving down to explore the column of your throat.

 Meanwhile, Loki is leaving his room, he needs to speak with Thor, whose room isn't far from his own. Coming to a stop in front the door, he raises his hand to knock when a faint, very feminine sigh catches his ear. He pauses, unsure if he had even heard it, but no, there it is again except it's louder this time. Loki smirks turning away, then softly through the door--

 "Thor," you moan as he nips at your collarbone, hands spanning your waist before sliding up to cup your still clothed breasts.

 The muscle in Loki’s jaw feathers in recognition, hand tightening to a fist. The cold flush of jealously hits him first, starting in his fingertips and spreading up his arm, shortly followed by the hot rush of indignant rage. He returns fuming to his room. _Pathetic mortal_ —confusion suddenly overwhelms him. Yes. A mortal. The jealousy, the rage. They don’t make sense, it shouldn’t matter. He paces, searching for the source of his reaction aside from the obvious Thor implication. He shouldn’t care. _Sentiment._ He doesn’t care. _A hundred years is a heartbeat._ He would never allow himself to become attached to someone, some _thing_ , so fleeting. So he convinces himself that he isn’t.

 Thor stands lifting you easily and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. He deposits you gently onto the edge of the bed, and you slide your hands beneath the tank top; Thor takes the hint, peeling it off to reveal his perfectly sculpted body. You palm the muscles of his abdomen; heat pooling between your legs. Thor drops to his knees and you return the favor, slipping your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra, letting the straps fall from your shoulders. He cups them appreciatively, palms warm and battle roughened, thumbing your nipples before burying his face in your chest, the scruff of beard pleasantly scratching the sensitive skin.

 He palms your core through your leggings and you press against his hand, seeking more friction. You lift your hips and Thor peels your leggings off, draping your bare thighs over his impossibly broad shoulders. Fingers tease briefly over your panties before he pushes them to the side, two thick fingers filling you with ease.

 "Gods," Thor curses lowly at how tight you are, crystal blue eyes clouding over with lust. His other hand slips behind your neck, pulling your lips to his, capturing your mouth while he continues to stretch you. When he adds a third finger, your heels dig into his back, and you pant against his mouth, foreheads pressed together.

 Your walls begin to loosen and he withdraws, your thighs falling from his shoulders as he moves to stand. You take advantage of the opportunity to worship the planes and valleys of his abdomen with your mouth before slipping your thumbs beneath the waist band of his sweats, pushing them down so he can step out of them. His cock is as thick and impressive as the rest of him. 

 You reposition yourself, swinging your legs onto the bed, and sliding back against the pillows, bending your knees and spreading your legs wide. Thor slots himself into the generous space you've made for him.  Your head falls into the pillows as soon as he starts pushing into you. By the time he bottoms out, you’re panting heavily, fingers tangled in the sheets.

 Thor is still until he feels you adjust and relax. Rolling his hips experimentally, you both groan.   

 "I'm not going to break," you hiss, thoroughly ready for Thor to fuck you into the damn mattress.

 Thor raises a brow.

 "As you wish," he replies with a grin, hiking a leg over his shoulder, and thrusting into you in earnest. He fucks you hard and slow, eyes rolling back into your head. Hips snapping against yours with all the force you knew he was capable of, walls gripping hungrily at his cock with every drag. You arch your back and the head of his cock brushes against that spot that has you going numb with pleasure. The rhythm of his hips increases, grazing that spot with every thrust, until you're coming undone, walls beginning to flutter around his length. You place a hand between you, fingers circling your clit, your orgasm hits your forcefully, knocking the air from your lungs, your nails leave long angry trails down the muscles of Thor's back. You spasm around him for what feels like forever, blissfully blacking out, while Thor comes with a final thrust, cursing the nine realms.

 You resist the urge to simply drift off to sleep, lying beside the god of thunder just long enough to recover, for everything to come back into focus, although to be fair that in itself takes about 15 minutes. Thor seems only slightly disappointed that you aren’t going to stay the night, but he sees you out like a gentleman, giving you a parting kiss on the cheek and a wink. Guilt settles bitter and acrid at the back of your throat, but you're too exhausted to linger on it. When your head hits your own pillow, you sleep peacefully.


	3. Resolve

You feel different when you wake, and it takes a moment to recognize that it’s because the itch for Loki’s touch which had settled comfortably beneath your skin is finally gone. You smile smugly to yourself, _all is well._ This newfound restoration lasts for all about five minutes. Thoughts of how much you don’t need him whispering throughout your morning routine until you defeatedly realizes that nothing in fact has changed. A frustrated sigh, long, heavy, and deep escapes your lips.

 Deciding work is the best distraction, you spend the day in the coffee shop down the street, catching up on reports to be submitted. That night you toss anxiously in your bed, sleep eluding you.

 The morning finds your tired in more ways than one and you wander into kitchen later than usual only to find the crux of your dilemma seated at the island reading with his coffee. Loki glances up from his book at your entrance, eager to see how this is going to play out.

 "You look tired," he observes nonchalantly, noticing the circles under your eyes.

 "I am tired," you reply pouring your coffee, mumbling something about reports.

 "See you later?" You ask vaguely just as a nicety, not really because you plan on seeing him later, or at least you haven't decided if you will or not.

 "You know where to find me." Loki replies promisingly, mouth curving in half smirk, going along with the charade for now, waiting for the opportune moment to act.

 You pace your room that evening, gathering your resolve. You've never been one to deny yourself. If you want something you get it. Why should Loki be any different? If you want to fuck Loki, you'll fuck Loki. It’s nothing more than that. And if it is, he doesn't need to know.

 Loki lets a full minute pass before he opens the door, _Let her wait._ He opens the door; the rush that accompanies a satisfying game of cat and mouse thrilling along his spine.

 "What a pleasant surprise," he croons, looming in the door way momentarily, noting the hungry gleam in your eyes, before letting you in.

 You're inside for all of a second before you're pushing up on your toes, hand snaking behind his neck, pulling him down for an open-mouthed kiss, which he obliges, your tongue swiping heatedly against his. The touch of your lips is paired with a dose of self-loathing as he realizes just how much he wants this. He wonders if this how you kissed Thor, jealously coiling around the base of his spine. He sinks his teeth harshly into the flesh of your full bottom lip. The way you moan and curve into him demonstrating that you have no objections. He runs his tongue soothingly over your lip, perceiving the tang of blood, faint and metallic. Loki backs you against the wall with a soft thud, breaking the kiss, he presses a thigh between your legs.

 You grind against his thigh, seeking more pressure, more friction, while Loki sucks and laves the skin of your throat, teeth grazing along your collarbone. Your hands slip beneath his shirt, running over the elegant lines of muscle, desire permeating your body. Loki’s fingers make their way past the waistband of your shorts, skimming beneath your panties to circle your clit teasingly before stroking your entrance, finding you more than ready. Loki tugs your shorts and panties off impatiently and you return the favor, freeing his cock from the confines of his black jeans. His hands grip your ass, lifting you effortlessly, and you cross your ankles behind his back. Loki pauses, capturing your mouth roughly, before entering you with bruising force. You gasp sharply against his lips, and Loki groans low and deep savoring the edges of your pain, your walls a vice grip around his cock. He repeats the action, your nails sinking into his shoulders, his name falling from your lips in a dissonant plea. He continues to fuck you at his leisure with the same force, but he brings his fingers to stroke against your clit, just long enough to reintroduce the pleasure to the pain. The pain eventually subsides to lingers on the fringes of sensation, and you roll your hips to meet his thrusts, hand tangling in the hair at the base of his neck. Loki sets a purely selfish pace, release nearing with a familiar tingle at the base of his spine. Your walls begin to twitch around him, but he purposely angles his thrusts to keep you on edge. Loki wraps a hand around your throat, just enough pressure to feel the air trap and your pulse flutter beneath his grip, sending him over the edge, he rides out his release with languid half thrusts, cock throbbing within you. He pants heavily against the crook of your neck, hips finally slowing to a stop, while you burn with unresolved tension.

 Loki trails his nose along the column of your throat deceptively gentle, bringing his lips to your ear.

 “Go find Thor, perhaps my brother will be good enough to finish you off.” His voice low and contemptuous. 

 Panic floods your senses. Loki pulls away slightly so he can register the surprise that flickers across your features, fingers curling tighter around your throat.

 “Did you really think, you could deceive _me?_ ” He questions rhetorically, tone laced with venom, eyes glimmering dangerously. 

 You quickly conclude there’s only one way to get out of this and save face.

 “What can I say, why should a girl settle for one god, when she can have two.” You lie with cool defiance.

 Loki scoffs, releasing his grip on your throat, and you disentangle your legs from his waist so he can pull out. Neither of you remarking on the fact that his cock is still hard. He turns away, tucking himself neatly back into his pants while you redress with as much dignity as you can muster.

 “Leave me,” he orders from over his shoulder without looking at you.

 You don’t give him the satisfaction of slamming the door behind you.


	4. **Note**

So I don't know if I'm actually going to finish this because I've already started writing something else and I've just kind of lost interest in this. So this is on hiatus for anyone who is waiting for updates--sorry, I'm trash. 


End file.
